


State of the Union

by GoodJanet



Category: Fatal Attraction - SNL Sketch, Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real News RPF
Genre: Enemy Lovers, F/M, Hate Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11231169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: They can't resist each other.This is an edited re-upload. Originally published 2-13-17.





	State of the Union

**Author's Note:**

> From this SNL sketch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pRt4dFBkCA

“This is wrong, Kellyanne. This is wrong. This is so _wrong_.”

He keeps repeating himself, sounding more like a needle skipping on a record with each stroke of Kellyanne’s hand. She laughs. It’s a cold cruel sound that should be an instant turn-off, but hell, it’s anything but. Jake hisses, and his head rears back, hitting his kitchen wall with a dull thud. He bites his lower lip and worries it between his teeth.

“Not wrong enough to stop me though. You keep coming back to me, don’t you? You keep asking for more and more and more. You can’t get enough of me, Jakey!”

He pushes her away with more force than he means to use. Kellyanne goes flying into his kitchen table with a clatter. It knocks him out of his rage-induced stupor.

“Oh my god, Kellyanne, I—”

“Ooooh, newsboy likes to get rough with women, huh? What would your precious CNN colleagues think of that?”

Jake stalks over to her.

“You wouldn’t.”

She grins a smile with teeth like thirty perfectly-aligned tombstones.

“Jake, you know me better than that.”

She reaches her hands out for him once more, and he’s still hard. Hard as a rock. Hard enough to pound nails. She squeezes his cock, and he throbs in her hand, and it makes him want to throw up.

“What is CNN’s stance on purity politics?” she asks.

Jake doesn’t wait for her to elaborate or for her to talk in circles. He crushes his mouth to hers to get her to stop talking. That’s how he rationalizes it. Isn’t it easier to give her what she wants? He feels like a monster as he leans his body over hers until she has no choice but to lie flat atop his table.

“Are you going to fuck me, Jake?”

“Yes,” he says, eyes blazing in the half-dark of the room.

She watches with anticipation as he pushes his pants down and off his hips. He pulls his underwear down enough to free himself, and she leans up to take a peak.

“And they say CNN doesn’t have any balls.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kellyanne,” Jake bites.

He pushes into her without any further preamble, and god, isn’t that the truth? Every day she and her goons spat on the Constitution, but here he was. He was no better.

His kitchen table hits the wall with rapid _thump-thump-thump_ s. Kellyanne writhes like a snake under him, and Jake gets annoyed enough to grab her wrists and pin them down. She undulates in ecstasy when he does so, and a jolt of heat shoots through his body.

“What would your precious ethics committee have to say about this, Jake? If only they could see you now.”

Jake gets the sudden urge to tear the straps off her lacy nighty, just so she wouldn’t have anything to wear on her way home, but he doesn’t. He has enough presence of mind to know that he can’t send a naked woman out his apartment under any circumstances, no matter who she is. She makes him angry enough to scream, but he doesn’t do that either. He’s made too many concessions to her already, and he would be damned if he went any further.

~~Where else could he go from here?~~

Besides, she’d like that too much. Playing the victim. She’d show up at the White House in her ruined negligee, faux tears running down her eyes with tales of how the big bad newsman ravaged her with his huge hands and fat cock.

She must sense the wheels turning in his head because she lets out a cackle, and Jake is half-convinced she’s inside his head, cataloguing and downloading his thoughts to take back to Trump.

“I’m not having you back on the show,” Jake says. “You’re a fraud. You’re finished.”

“I’m not the only one.”

His fingers tighten on her disgustingly trim waist as she bears down around his girth. He grunts once as she keens in his ear, a noise that will haunt him for years, he’s sure. He spills inside her, but it’s an unsatisfying feeling. She whimpers when he pulls out, and it sounds genuine. It’s the most human act he’s ever witnessed from her. Jake pulls away in disgust.

“Get out of here,” he says.

Kellyanne sits up and slithers down off his table. She fixes her slip so it covers her rear and thighs again. Her knees briefly buckle, but neither of them comment on it. Jake rights his own clothes.

“I will be back, Jake. You need me as much as I need you.”

Jake throws her his coat.

“Cover yourself up. It’s freezing out.”

Kellyanne grins, her eyes narrowing in delight.

“See you around, Jake.”

Jake watches from his window as she exits his apartment complex and hails a cab. She doesn’t turn around before climbing in, and Jake closes the blinds and double locks his front door when her car is down the block.

With shaking hands, he pours himself a drink.

It’s not enough, though.

He can still taste her on his tongue.

He pours himself another and tries to forget.


End file.
